


Knife Nuts

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Our Blades Are Sharp [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Big Sisters, F/M, Knives, Overprotective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, <em>Andronikos Knows How to Treat His Lady, and His Lady's Sisters Grudgingly Approve</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Knife Nuts

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [tumblr](http://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/33123881954/swtor-knife-nuts-or-andronikos-knows-how-to-treat) in early October 2012.
> 
> Quick background: Arthanasia is the oldest, Kardea is the middle sister, and Phae's the youngest. They grew up as street rat refugees on Nar Shaddaa, and Phae was captured in a slave raid when she was about eleven; the sisters were reunited some twelve to fourteen years later, that part of the family timeline I'm still fiddling with. Arty is a generic bounty hunter, and Dea's a smuggler (although her story is severely AU from the in-game smuggler storyline).

"He bought you knives."

"He bought you _knives._ "

"He bought me knives!"

Arty was staring at the open package on the table, mouth agape. Dea looked like she wanted to grab the package and make a break for it.

Phae was actually petting her new knives.

They were sleek blades, gleaming blue in the low light of the cantina: two large combat knives, likely meant to be hidden away in Phae's favorite pair of boots, and ten throwing blades, perfectly measured to fit the quick-release sheathes Phae wore on her arms beneath her jacket. They were real Echani steel, with elegantly flowing lines following the curve of the blades, each honed to a razor sharpness. Not a single vibroknife among the set, either, making them perfect for assassin work with no characteristic hum to give them - or their wielder - away.

Dea walked her fingers across the table to brush the edge of the box in which the knives sat. Arty slapped Dea's hand away before their baby sister pinned it to the table with one of her new pretties. Dea sulked, but withdrew her hand and went back to staring at the knife set with barely-contained lust.

"What was the occasion?" Arty said, turning her attention to her glass and pouring herself a much larger portion of Corellian whiskey than she'd had earlier.

"Oh, no occasion," Phae said dreamily, still drawing her finger carefully over the shimmering whorls of the steel of one of the combat knives. "Andronikos told me he thought I'd like them, so he bought them for me."

Arty choked on her whiskey. Dea put her head on the table and started banging her head against it. Phae cackled.

Getting herself back under control, Arty said, "All right, fine. You can keep him, and Dea promises not to dismember him." Dea snarled something unintelligible but stopped beating her head against the table long enough to nod her agreement.

Phae beamed at her sisters.


End file.
